Attendees to the renowned gallery are used to surprising encounters in its spacious Turbine Hall. They've sunbathed under an man-made sun, descended down amusement rides, and observed AI-powered jellyfish hovering through the air. But this marks the inaugural time they will be engaging themselves in the complex nose passages of a reindeer. The latest artistic project for this immense space—developed by Indigenous Sámi creator Máret Ánne Sara—encourages gallerygoers into a winding structure based on the enlarged inside of a reindeer's nasal airways. Upon entering, they can wander around or unwind on skins, tuning in on earphones to community leaders sharing stories and insights.
Why choose the nasal structure? It may appear quirky, but the installation celebrates a obscure biological feat: scientists have uncovered that in less than one second, the reindeer's nose can raise the temperature of the incoming air it breathes in by 80 degrees celsius, allowing the creature to thrive in extreme Arctic temperatures. Enlarging the nose to larger than human size, Sara explains, "produces a perception of insignificance that you as a person are not in control over nature." The artist is a former reporter, writer for kids, and rights advocate, who is from a herding family in the far north of Norway. "Perhaps that creates the potential to alter your perspective or spark some humbleness," she continues.
The maze-like structure is one of several components in Sara's immersive art project honoring the traditions, understanding, and worldview of the Sámi, the continent's original inhabitants. Partially migratory, the Sámi count about 100,000 people spread across northern Norway, the Finnish Arctic, the Swedish Lapland, and the Kola region (an territory they call Sápmi). They have endured oppression, forced assimilation, and suppression of their tongue by all four nations. With an emphasis on the reindeer, an creature at the center of the Sámi cosmology and origin tale, the art also draws attention to the people's struggles relating to the climate crisis, land dispossession, and imperialism.
At the extended entrance slope, there's a looming, 26-meter formation of reindeer hides entangled by power and light cables. It represents a symbol for the societal frameworks limiting the Sámi. Like an electrical tower, part celestial ladder, this component of the installation, called Goavve-, refers to the Sámi term for an extreme weather phenomenon, in which solid sheets of ice develop as changing temperatures thaw and ice over the snow, trapping the reindeers' main winter sustenance, moss. This phenomenon is a outcome of global heating, which is occurring up to four times faster in the Far North than elsewhere.
Three years ago, I met with Sara in the Norwegian far north during a severe cold period and joined Sámi reindeer keepers on their motorized sleds in chilly conditions as they hauled containers of animal nutrition on to the wind-scoured frozen landscape to provide through labor. These animals surrounded round us, digging the icy ground in futility for lichen-covered morsels. This expensive and demanding method is having a significant impact on animal rearing—and on the animals' independence. Yet the alternative is starvation. As these icy periods become commonplace, reindeer are succumbing—a number from hunger, others suffocating after falling into lakes and rivers through thinning ice sheets. To some extent, the art is a monument to them. "By overlapping of elements, in a way I'm introducing the condition to London," says Sara.
The sculpture also highlights the clear difference between the modern understanding of power as a commodity to be harnessed for profit and livelihood and the Sámi philosophy of life force as an inherent essence in animals, individuals, and the environment. The gallery's past as a industrial facility is connected to this, as is what the Sámi see as eco-imperialism by Scandinavian states. In their efforts to be standard bearers for clean sources, Nordic nations have locked horns with the Sámi over the development of windfarms, hydroelectric dams, and mines on their ancestral land; the Sámi argue their human rights, livelihoods, and traditions are endangered. "It's hard being such a limited population to defend yourself when the justifications are based on global sustainability," Sara comments. "Mining practices has appropriated the rhetoric of ecology, but yet it's just aiming to find better ways to maintain practices of consumption."
The artist and her kin have themselves conflicted with the national administration over its ever-stricter regulations on herding. A few years ago, Sara's brother initiated a series of unsuccessful lawsuits over the forced culling of his animals, ostensibly to stop overgrazing. In support, Sara created a extended series of artworks called Pile O'Sápmi comprising a massive screen of numerous cranial remains, which was displayed at the 2017 event Documenta 14 and later obtained by the public gallery, where it hangs in the lobby.
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